A Posse Ad Esse
by Lard Boy
Summary: In seventh year, the Marauders learn of an upcoming ball at Hogwarts and must find dates while preparing for finals. James disastrously pursues Lily, Sirius is keeping a secret. JamesLily SiriusRemus. COMPLETE
1. Ch 1: Dumbledore's Announcement

**Author's notes:** Not the most original concept, but it will serve its purpose. Characters obviously belong to JKR. "Carmenology" is a word I just made up. Future home of Siremus slash

**..Chapter One: Dumbledore's Announcement..**

"Advanced Latin and Carmenology?" Sirius and James read aloud in unison.

Peter blinked incredulously. "What is carmenology?"

"It's like the etymology of magic spells," explained Remus, his hand outstretched expectantly toward James, who was still staring dumbstruck at the parchment.

Peter glanced from Remus to Sirius to James and back to Remus. Receiving no clarification, he asked, "Well, what is etymology?"

"Is this even a class?" asked James.

"Of _course_ it's a class," said Remus shortly, snatching his course schedule away from his friend's grip and sliding it neatly into his bag. "It wouldn't be on my schedule if it weren't."

"Well, yeah, but," James replied, liberally applying jam to his toast, "why take it if it has no use at all? It's just loads more homework to shirk off."

"Obviously, Prongs," Sirius mused, in the most spot-on Remus impression to date, "the class has many practical applications, in the realm of dueling especially. Imagine the look on your opponent's face when you tell him the Viscera hex you just blasted him with was derived from the Latin 'pretentious git-us' which means 'Christ, I'm such an asshole.'"

"Obviously, Padfoot," Remus grinned with mock-impatience, "you would fail this class."

The four boys laughed while James finished with the jam and sought out a plate of kippers to top his toast.

"That's foul," said Sirius, his face screwed up as James selected two especially plump and slightly charred fish from the plate.

James extended the open-face jam-and-kipper creation to Sirius. "Try it. You're always up for trying something new."

"Prongs, mate, I can honestly say that in seventeen years I have never wanted to try something new less than I do right now."

At last, the Marauders had reached their final year at Hogwarts. Only Remus and Peter were concerned; it seemed that James and Sirius had never been concerned about much of anything. Peter was worried because he had never gotten good marks and was not sure what he could ever do outside of Hogwarts. Remus was the opposite: top marks in every class he had taken (outside of Potions, where his highest mark was "lucky guesswork") and knowing exactly what he would end up doing after Hogwarts. Unfortunately, it involved being fired from jobs, evicted from residences, and shunned by small-minded wizards who thought of him as dangerous and inhuman. But neither boy could be concerned with that now. Remus had to focus on getting "Outstanding" on every one of his N.E.W.T.s; Peter had to buckle down and attempt to pass a class or two.

The steady, incomprehensible roar of breakfasting students in the Great Hall was suddenly matched by the fluttering wings as the morning post arrived. A fat owl whose feathers were particularly rumpled dropped a bound edition of The Daily Prophet at James's plate. Peter snatched the Quidditch section and quickly immersed himself in an article detailing the Chudley Cannon's incredible defeat of the Kenmare Kestrals at Kenmare, reading the especially interesting bits aloud for James and Sirius to marvel at. Remus glanced fleetingly at the front page but saw nothing more interesting than a Ministry ban on experimental breeding, and returned to nibbling an apple.

As the last owl soared out of the Great Hall, Dumbledore rose to his feet with both hands clasped around his goblet. The roar immediately subsided to a murmur; Dumbledore did not usually make announcements the first day of class.

"I know that I do not usually make announcements the first day of class," he began, his powerful, mystical voice reverberating throughout the Hall, "but this very special item had not been definitive until last night after all of you students were surely nestled in your dormitories, resting up for the exciting year to come." His voice rang with bemusement, and he continued, "Now, some of you may have heard stories from your parents or grandparents about an annual Halloween Masquerade Ball at Hogwarts." Chatter broke out throughout every table in the Hall; even some of the teachers looked as if this were the first they had heard this being mentioned.

Dumbledore took a sip from his goblet, then raised his voice, and went on over top of the swelling noise, "I remember in my days as a student it was one of the biggest events of the year, loathed and anticipated by every living body in the school, and by most non-living as well. But years later, Headmaster Dippet, an able wizard but a dreadful dancer, did away with the Ball. The staff and I have decided that this is the year it will return."

The patches of chatter erupted into full-out debates, protests, and yelps of excitement. Dumbledore took another sip from his goblet.

"It is to be held the Saturday before Halloween. Students are encouraged to invite one another to the event, or to attend as a group of friends. More details are being posted on your house information boards this morning. You ought to write home and have your parents send along your dress robes, too; we wouldn't want anyone to have to wear his school robes to a ball. Now, everyone enjoy their first day of class. This year I want all classrooms neat and unexploded by the end of the day," he concluded abruptly before sitting back down, and everyone who remembered last year's incident cast their eyes not-so-subtly at James. James grinned sheepishly at Sirius who was dramatically re-enacting James's attempts to control the infamous Sixth Year Explosion.

"My mum told me about the Halloween Ball," said Peter, once everyone's attention had left James and returned to Dumbledore's announcement. "She said every year at least two people broke a bone and five passed out of exhaustion."

"Bollocks," grunted Sirius. "It sounds like some posh, tea-and-crumpets shit to me."

"Actually, no," Remus chimed in. "If it's like the traditional Hogwarts Masquerade, there will be a… well, a rather violent dance competition."

James chuckled, "'_Violent_ dance competition'? Please tell me you're joking."

Remus shook his head. "The prize is, or at least it used to be, a trophy to be displayed in the winner's house common room until the next Ball," he stated knowingly, "and exemption from final exams."

The three other boys snapped to attention. "You're kidding."

Remus smiled, "Apparently to win, you have to incorporate elements of magic into your dancing. Don't worry, though, none of you will ever win it. Half the time it goes to a Hufflepuff, and the rest of the time it at least goes to someone who doesn't look like a petrified grindylow on the dance floor."

"So I suppose our little Moony is a shoe-in," James ribbed. "He looks nothing like a grindylow. More of a skrewt, I'd say."

"A large, magenta horklump, if you ask me," added Sirius.

"Personally, I think I look more like a scrawny, teenage werewolf."

"Well, if you want to be technical…"

"Aren't you lot forgetting an important detail to attending a ball?" James asked, steering the conversation back to the subject at hand.

"What?" replied all three.

"Girls. We're expected to ask girls to this thing. Who do you suppose would go with a sorry bunch like yourselves?"

"And I suppose you have dozens of girls clawing at your robes, do you, Prongs?" Sirius snarled.

"I already know who I'm taking," stated James surely.

"Let me guess," offered Peter. "Lily Evans."

"Damn right Lily Evans," James called, bursting with confidence. "I think end of last year she was finally coming around to my charm."

"Was that before or after she told you to drown yourself?" Remus inquired conversationally.

"After," said James, "and that's enough out of you, young man. Who will you take?"

Remus looked thoughtfully up to the ceiling. "No one, I suppose."

"What?" James shouted. "You're going to humiliate yourself by showing up alone?"

"I suppose I'll protect myself by not showing up at all."

"Oh no, not that time of the month!" James moaned.

"The day before," Remus sighed. "But it doesn't matter. I probably would have stayed in and studied anyway. Slughorn always gives tests after holidays."

"But I want, nay, I _need_ to go to this ball. Not for me, Moony, but for the beautiful redheaded children that Lily Evans and I will never have if I don't go to this ball," James whined.

"I'll stay with him," Sirius said, rather solemnly all of a sudden. "You and Wormtail go to the ball."

"No one needs to stay with me," Remus protested. "I won't be a problem on Saturday. It's only Sunday we need to worry about."

Remus glanced at Sirius. Something uncharacteristically stern flickered through Sirius' eyes. Time snapped forward, and he wore a grin on his face. "Then maybe we should have the ball on Sunday instead. We can pop in and give Snivellus a surprise."

**..End of Chapter One..**

**Author's notes:** I must encourage criticism about errors in canon, characterization, and writing flaws. Unless you want to point out that the 30th of October in 1976 was not the day before the full moon, but that it was in fact one week after. That's just nitpicking and I won't stand for it. Also you could ignore the ostensible lack of logic in exempting students from exams for winning a dance competition. I may attempt to justify that later. But hey, maybe not.

Also I must thank the Harry Potter Lexicon for keeping my fic as close to canon as it can be while claiming that two characters were gay lovers. :)


	2. Ch 2: James's Scheme

**AN:** A little James/Lily heavy right now, but I'm working up to the Siremus. Patience. Also, for you nit-pickers, the first Quidditch game isn't usually until November and it's always Gryffindor v. Slytherin, but it's in early September against Ravenclaw now. Holy plot device, Batman!

**..Chapter 2: James's Scheme..**

"Well, she said no," James announced loudly as he slipped through the portrait hole and into the nearly deserted Gryffindor common room. The lone residents were Peter and Remus, the only people in all of Hogwarts who missed the first Quidditch match of the year. Ravenclaw was Gryffindor's greatest competition this year, and even the quiet girls who never usually followed the sport had opinions on whom they hoped might win.

James glided across the room to take a seat beside Peter, who was feverishly copying Remus' Potions notes. Without looking up or stopping his hand, he noted offhandly how awfully happy James sounded about his rejection.

"Ah, because I am happy," he smiled, snagging a Chocolate Frog from between Remus' fingers and popping it into his mouth. "She's playing right into my master plan."

Remus chuckled, pulling another Frog from his pocket. "Master plan? What are you, an evil overlord hell-bent on wooing girls who hate you?"

"Oh, Moony, have you been reading my memoirs again?"

Peter, whose interest had been gradually shifting from his work to his friends, asked attentively, "So what is your plan?"

"I'm glad you asked, Wormtail, for you see, I've long believed that one day I will realize my true purpose in life as educator of poor, innocent rubes like yourself in the fine art of getting laid."

Remus rolled his eyes. "So you're just in this for a quick shag? Have you ever even talked to Lily?" He held up a finger reprovingly and quickly added, "And no, your bimonthly shouting matches don't count."

James leapt from his seat and slapped his hand to his chest in mock-outrage. "Moony, I am surprised at you! Of course I've talked to her! And she's brilliant and funny and charming and I respect her for her mind, or whatever. It's just lucky that she's also bloody gorgeous. It would be an insult to her beauty _not_ to want to shag her senseless."

Just then, he noticed Peter's wild gesticulations, indicating some impending doom standing right behind him. "Excuse me, Casanova," said Lily brusquely as she pushed past him to get to the stairs of the girls' dormitories. Her jade Muggle sun dress was spattered with a thick, brown-green sludge.

A petrified silence struck James briefly as his cheeks flushed. "How long—"

"Just before you proclaimed your respect for my mind, 'or whatever.'" Her voice barely caught in her throat as her feet fell heavily on the stairs.

"Lily," James pleaded, following her to the bottom of the stairs, "Lily, that was just me talking to hear myself talk. I was about to say how I was going to buy you a new dress, a prettier dress— not to say that this one isn't pretty, because you look amazing— but an even prettier dress to make up for my ruining that one— I really am terribly sorry about—"

She whipped around, her messy red bulb of hair bouncing around the crown of her head, and scowled down at James from the top of the staircase. "About what? Terribly sorry about humiliating me in front of the entire school? Terribly sorry about constantly pestering me with the same bullshit every day? What do I have to say to you, Potter? What the hell do I have to do to make you leave me alone?"

"Say that you'll go with me to the Halloween Ball—"

"You are unbelievable! How can you be such a… a…"

"Thoughtless asshole," supplied a voice from the couch.

"(Yes, Remus, thank you,) such a thoughtless asshole? I hated you last year, and the year before, so why would I suddenly _not_ hate you now?"

"But—"

"Just piss off!" And with that she whirled back around, raged up the stairs, and flung the door nearly off its hinges. In her wake she left a quiet mourning for James's utter emasculation.

"What the hell did you do to her?" asked Peter quietly.

James sighed. "After the Quidditch game I flew up to her and gave her a _mimbletonia _I stole from Sprout. When they bloom they're actually kind of pretty. She seemed to like it, really—I heard her say once that she'd always thought it would be neat to have one—and I think she was just about to agree to go to the Ball with me until it… well…"

"Exploded Stinksap all over her dress," Remus finished warily.

"They do seem to do that, don't they?"

"And in what universe does ruining a girl's dress get her not to hate you anymore?" asked Remus.

"That wasn't what I'd meant to do, but then on the way back I got to thinking about it and maybe since I'd sort of unintentionally ruined her dress by accident, she'd let me buy her a new one next Hogsmeade visit, and once I made sure she'd seen my huge sack of Galleons, I could steer us toward Madame Puddifoot's…"

"Prongs, we've all seen your 'huge sack of Galleons,' and believe me, no girl is going to get worked up over that," Sirius murmured as he stumbled in through the portrait hole, clasping a delicately smoking cigarette in his teeth. "It's really more of a tiny stack of Sickles, anyway."

As Sirius drew in a long breath and subsequently released a thin line of grey, serpentine smoke, Remus glanced disparagingly at him. His hair, typically a perfect sheet of black silk, was mussed and clinging slightly to his flushed cheeks. The tie which he never wore on weekends now encircled his neck, more hastily tied than usual. His clothes were singularly rumpled, and one sock was distinctly blue in opposition to the other, the standard Gryffindor red. For a moment, Remus nearly considered asking where Sirius had been, but after watching his tremulous lips take another long drag from the cigarette, he concluded that perhaps he did not need to know.

"If that was supposed to be a phallic thing, Mr. Padfoot, then shame on you for sinking to such puerile insults."

"What's the saying? If the shoe fits…"

"You missed the first great Potter-Evans showdown of the year, Padfoot," Peter interjected excitedly. "There was carnage everywhere. We almost lost him this time."

"Oh yeah?" said Sirius disinterestedly, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the fire. "She tetchy at you for not getting in a single bloody Quaffle?"

"You were at the game. Didn't you see what happened right at the end? The Stinksap?" James asked.

Sirius awkwardly muttered something about skipping out early. Seeing that James was about to inquire further into the matter, Remus hurriedly cut in, "Oi, Prongs, that reminds me. You never said how the Quidditch match went."

"Oh, we nearly lost it because Ravenclaw's Keeper is too damn good. That Burke bloke, he's in our year. We couldn't get any Quaffles by him. If we hadn't caught the Snitch right when we did, we probably would have been out of the running for the Cup already."

As James continued his ramblings about who had to beat whom in which match for Gryffindor to take the Quidditch Cup, Sirius cast his eyes at Remus. Surely there was no way for Remus to know why he had left the match early, for he had been going to extreme lengths to keep it a secret. Surely no one could know why he had been sneaking out twice a week in the middle of the night under James's invisibility cloak. No one knew. He was sure.

Remus returned Sirius' glance with an equivocal smile.

**..End of Chapter 2..**


	3. Ch 3: Sirius' Secret

**..Chapter 3: Sirius' Secret..**

Somewhere in England at that instant, a clock tower struck midnight. Somewhere a woman nursed a crying baby as her husband made love to his mistress up town. Somewhere two lovers knowingly uttered their first confessions of love, as one man unknowingly lost his lover forever to a back-alley murder. Somewhere, someone overcome with emotion wept in joy, as another wept in pain.

But in the seventh year boys' dorm in Gryffindor tower, all was quiet. The arched windows lay open, allowing the temperate September breeze to rustle softly the curtains around the boys' beds. Remus' eyes likewise lay open, allowing in little but the reflection of moonlight off the vaulted ceiling. The moon had only just begun to wane.

Remus rarely slept the first night after a full moon. Every month for nearly six years on these nights he would rest motionlessly in his bed and listen to the rhythmic breathing of his friends. Peter's high and quiet wheezing, James's deep and steady inhalations, Sirius' soft and shallow snores… Some nights the three would combine into a veritable symphony, each becoming a different instrument in perfect accord, playing harmonies and melodies, articulating fugues and concertos, swelling into a potent crescendo, diving into a barely-audible pianissimo… But then again, Remus often thought his mind was a bit too active on these nights.

However tonight, Remus' trio was a lonely duet. Where was Sirius' lovely baritone to Peter's tenor and James' bass?

Unknown to Remus, Sirius' breathing was heard by only one pair of ears somewhere on the other side of the castle in the form of a series of regular staccato gasps.

Within exactly twenty-three minutes, Remus heard footsteps approaching the dormitory door, and with the click of the knob, heard Sirius' breathing enter the room. He smelled the last stale wafts of smoke from the tiny cigarette butt which Sirius extinguished as he threw off his cloak and began to fold it neatly. Without moving his body, Remus' eyes followed Sirius to James's bed, where the silvery cloak was carefully placed in the precise spot where it had been tossed that evening.

Suddenly and for no reason at all, a wave of brazenness came over Remus, and abruptly he sat up in his bed. "Where were you?" The question was three parts casual, one part meddlesome.

Startled, the other boy whirled around. "What the hell, Moony," he exclaimed with irritation.

"Where were you?"

"What are you, my mother?" Sirius tried his best to sound nonchalant.

"Your friend."

Sirius sighed exasperatedly. "Look, I know you're the prefect and the matriarch of this dorm, but I don't need you following me around molly-coddling me. I'm a big boy now."

"I was just wondering. You've been acting oddly ever since we got here."

"Blimey, Remus, what's climbed up your minge and died tonight?" He flopped down onto his own mattress and stripped the shirt from his back. Just then, Remus swung his legs over the side of his bed toward Sirius' and frowned at him sternly.

"Let's be just a little more defensive, eh?" he hissed, trying to convey his frustration without waking up the slumbering boys in the room.

Reluctantly, Sirius turned his face toward the other boy. The moon shone off his dull features with pearlescent brightness, lit his dun eyes with limpid clarity, and illuminated his tawny hair with glittering brilliance. Ironic, thought Sirius, how of all things moonlight should heighten Remus' beauty.

Beauty? This notion hung hesitantly in Sirius' consciousness. There was really no need to deny it at this point, but the word, even unspoken, left an unfamiliar taste in his mouth. An exotic, savory flavor that burst with exciting sweetness, but one that he knew he had to keep indefinitely to himself.

Sirius fell silent.

Remus sighed and his expression softened. "If you don't want to tell me, just say so."

_I should tell him_, thought Sirius. _If anyone should know, it should be him. It's his fault I'm doing it. It's his fault I'm the way I am. Before I met him I never would have…_

"No, I— I guess I should—"

James rolled over with great commotion and in momentarily stirring from a deep sleep he saw his friends wide awake. "Oi," he growled groggily, "Padfoot. Bedside table. A letter for you." With that, he turned back to the other wall and drifted back to sleep.

Curious, Sirius reached for the bedside table he shared with James and grabbed the letter. Squinting through the darkness, Remus read the words scrawled on the envelope: _Sirius, from O.B._

Sirius blushed furiously, cursed under his breath, and stuffed the envelope under his pillow.

After an uncomfortable silence, Remus quietly asked, "Were you going to say something?"

"No." The moment had passed. "I just… I'm sorry. For taking the mickey out of you. You don't really have anything up your minge."

Remus laughed and tossed his pillow straight at his friend's head. "You're a right pillock, you know."

Thankful that the mood had significantly lightened, Sirius grinned and chucked the pillow back at its owner. "I know. But that's why you love me."

Once both boys had pulled their bed curtains tightly around them and Remus had slipped into his dreams, Sirius pulled out the envelope and opened the seal.

**..End of Chapter 3..**

**AN:** My chapters seem to be getting shorter! If you haven't figured out yet what Sirius has been up to, I've been leaving clues. It should be pretty easy to piece together, really. Maybe I just think that because I know. Hmm. And I promise I haven't forgotten about whole Halloween Ball; that will come back into play in the next chapter, as well as more hints as to what Sirius' secret is and more Siremus. I really appreciate your reviews, by the way. Thanks for reading. :)


	4. Ch 4: James's Epiphany

**AN:** Wow, that was a quick update! I had the day off so I went ahead and wrote the next chapter. This is a long one too. Just don't expect chapter 5 to come as quickly. Sadly, I do have a life outside of Harry Potter.

**..Chapter 4: James's Epiphany..**

Nearly a month since the first Potter-Evans showdown but barely two weeks since the late-night Lupin-Black confrontation, on a beautiful autumn Thursday afternoon the Marauders sat on the grassy bank of the lake. Scattered around them were half a dozen textbooks, rolls of parchment, quills, and enough Every-Flavour Beans to power a rocket to the moon. The four boys were deeply immersed in a game of Spades as a respite from their studying, with Remus having been mercifully paired this time with James. His usual partner Peter was only any good at cards when severely inebriated, as they had learned the summer before their sixth year. Sirius swore loudly as James took yet another trick. James just smiled, collected the cards, and tossed another kipper from his school bag and into the lake.

"Do you have any idea how disgusting you are?" Sirius asked bitterly, watching a long, rubbery tentacle pluck the fish from the surface and plunge it down into the depths. "Regular people don't stuff fish into their bags."

"My mother always taught me to save a bit of breakfast, because you never know when you'll be late for lunch."

"Your mum chased you around the house throwing hexes at you for nicking a piece of toast from the table."

"You know she's batty and forgets things she says." James set Remus up to take another trick.

"I know you're a liar and she never said that in the first place."

"Shut up and play a card."

Remus and Peter laughed at the exchange, until Remus caught sight of the most terrifying sight he had seen since the day he had met Walburga Black: Lily Evans was creeping up slowly behind James, her wand out, with a thoroughly sinister glint in her eyes. She motioned to Remus not to give her away and, raising her wand, he thought, _That's it. Today will finally be the day she kills him._

"_Rictusempra_!" she cried out. James whipped around to look into the face of his attacker, but before he could say a word, he erupted in a fit of sniggering. Lily beamed triumphantly. "Hello, children. Is this big bully kicking your arses at cards again?"

The three Marauders who had not been magically overcome with laughter shot apprehensive glances at one another. Was Lily being _playful_ with James Potter?

Remus ventured to speak. "He's not kicking mine. I'm on his team." James seemingly found this hilarious, holding his sides and cackling vigorously.

"Can you keep him at that all day?" chimed in Sirius. "Maybe I can win back some of the money I lost in poker earlier."

The peels of laughter which had begun to subside were unwillingly renewed. "Evans," James wheezed between raucous giggles, "you'd better—heehee!—better cut it out."

She arched her eyebrows innocently. "Had I? But you were just telling me how happy I made you. Just trying to help."

Doubled over, James could hardly even form syllables anymore. He chuckled something with the general message that he might murder her if she would not remove the spell. "Alright, alright," she grinned. "_Finite_."

James, panting, collapsed on the grass.

"I've got to get going. I just couldn't pass up that golden opportunity," she laughed sweetly and gingerly prodded James with her foot. "Alright there, James?"

"Peachy." He rasped jocularly, "Now piss off, will you?"

"Piss off yourself," she sang with a smile. She addressed the other three, "See you 'round."

Once she out of ear-shot, the three boys all broke into a barrage of questions regarding since when Lily Evans was friendly with James, since when James had any room to joke with Lily Evans, and most importantly, since when James had been promoted from being called "Potter" to his first name.

"What did you do to her? You didn't give her a love potion did you? You know how dangerous those things can be."

James shrugged, "I was nice. That's all."

"Nice? Just nice? All it took was nice?" Sirius scoffed.

"I told I'd been a prat and I told her to punch me in the face. She did, busted my lip and everything." He proudly indicated the bright red scab running like a fault line over his bottom lip.

"And that was it?"

"Well, basically I agreed to stop being a wanker and to stop giving her lines—let that be a lesson to you, lads: girls don't like getting lines—and she agreed to go the Ball with me."

The other three sat positively dumbfounded. "Years of despising you, and just all of a sudden…?"

He shrugged again, more pronouncedly. "It came down to a matter of priorities, you know? At the risk of sounding like my father, we're nearly adults, the lot of us, so why act like kids anymore? I'd like to marry her one day. I _will_ marry her." He paused and let that sweet thought linger in their minds. "Lily Potter. Sounds nice, eh?"

The game ended as Peter took the final trick, leaving Sirius two tricks short. "Sorry, Padfoot," the smaller boy apologized sadly. "I can't help that I'm crap at cards."

"It wasn't your fault this time, Wormtail. Prongs just stacked the bloody deck is all. Here, Moony, you shuffle this time."

But Remus had taken up his fourth year Defense Against the Dark Arts notes and started again to highlight important countercurses with his wand. "We really ought to keep studying," he advised offhand. "We shouldn't wait until May to start."

"It's not even Halloween yet," Peter said. "We haven't even learned half the stuff that will be on the N.E.W.T.s."

"That reminds me," James interjected. "How's the search for dates coming along for you lot? Padfoot, I know at least a dozen girls who are dying to go with you."

Sirius fixed his attention on one particularly long blade of grass. "I'm not going, remember?"

"Bollocks," proclaimed James. "Scores of girls (very tidy girls, I might add) are after you, and you don't want to go?"

Sirius plucked the blade and kept his eyes sheepishly upon it. "I'm not going," he muttered.

"Flora Fancourt. Isabel MacDougal. Ambrosia Flume. Don't these names mean anything to you? The finest examples of the female student body here at Hogwarts have been asking about _you_, mate. And that Fancourt doesn't mind getting a bit, erm, _friendly,_ if you know what I mean," James added with a knowing wink.

"I'm not going," he repeated stubbornly, tearing the blade down the center with a satisfying _zzzzip_!

"Positively hopeless," James said, shaking his head. "And you two?"

"I'm not going either," Remus reminded him, subtly eyeing Sirius with concern. He had seemed awfully broody over the past two weeks.

"Oh yeah, the moon thing," James furrowed his brow and pursed his lips in a pout. "Well, shit, Wormtail, it looks like it'll just be you, me, and Lily at the Ball."

Peter cleared his throat self-consciously. "Err, well… and Elissa."

"And… who?" James, Remus, and even Sirius glanced at Peter in surprise.

"Elissa Troy. From Hufflepuff," he grinned embarrassedly. "I asked her last week."

"Are you joking? She's pretty cute." James was genuinely shocked, more that Peter had actually asked someone than that she had accepted. He knew that Peter was a good guy; it was Peter who refused to believe that.

"Clever, too," Peter added. "We've started practicing together for the dance competition. She's already taught me a few Charms that are sure to help us win, and we plan to brew an Agility Potion…"

Remus thought to himself, _That explains where Peter sneaked off to on Saturday, but still no closer to explaining about Sirius_.

James, stunned, let out a laugh. "I'm proud of you, kid. You reckon you might really win?"

"I hope so. I don't think I could stand taking my N.E.W.T.s," he admitted.

"You and me both, mate," James confessed as he stood and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Almost dinner. We'd better head up to the castle."

"I'll be up in a minute," Sirius grumbled.

James shrugged in resignation and departed for the castle followed closely by Peter. Remus was left to gather his study materials; Sirius sat silently wringing his hands in his lap.

"Erm, Moony," his voice cracked. He became acutely aware of his brain pounding inside his skull and his ears ringing with the violent palpitations of his heart.

Remus sensed his friend's uneasiness. He put down his Carmenology textbook and looked fixedly at Sirius whose eyes were transfixed on the ground. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, no. I was just… Well, don't you _want_ to go to the Ball?"

"Not really."

"Oh." The answer was obviously not what he had expected. "Well, see, I do. But not with a girl."

Remus stared with confusion.

"It's not like I'm a bender or anything," he added hastily. "Going with a girl would just be too much trouble. I'd rather just go to have fun, not to worry about some bint."

In that split second, it dawned on Remus that through countless offers from countless good-looking girls, Sirius had never once gone beyond playful flirtation. Remus was exceptionally shy around anyone other than the Marauders, so it never surprised anyone to learn that he was a virgin (not that he exactly broadcast the fact). But Sirius, one of the most sought-after, pined-for, and generally fancied boys at Hogwarts, having never had a girlfriend was incomprehensible.

That same split second led Sirius to feel the slightest twinge of guilt for so hurriedly denying what he knew to be agonizingly true.

"So," he resumed, "if you wanted to go with somebody, just as friends obviously, we could go. The two of us. With James and them too, but…" His words trailed off in the hope that he would not need to elaborate or clarify the invitation. He had said just as friends, and he had meant it. At least ostensibly, anyway.

Remus pondered this. He knew he would feel ill that night, and he truly detested large social settings, but something told him this was not a request he could reject. "I reckon that would be alright."

Sirius' face brightened but kept his eyes down. "Good," he said simply, and the two set off to join James and Peter in the Great Hall.

**..End of Chapter 4..**

**AN:** Why do I make James so fixated on fish? I guess I just see him as being quirky like that. I'm personally not so fond of fish myself, but the giant squid loves it. Anyway, I'd just like to point out that I might be a loser, because as I was writing Sirius' being nervous at the end, I was getting physically nervous myself. Wtf. How lame is that?


	5. Ch 5: The Halloween Ball

**AN:** I'm so sorry this chapter is so very, very late but (a) it's also very, very long and (b) my schedule has been hectic lately and I haven't had the time. Hopefully the next chapter will be posted next weekend; no promises on that, though. But we are getting near the end, so just hang on.

**..Chapter 5: The Halloween Ball..**

The Saturday before Halloween had arrived more quickly than anyone had expected. Breakfast that morning was heavy with an anxious hum of excitement. All over the school, students were making last-minute adjustments to their dates, dress, and dancing. Some had become fanatical about the affair, dedicating copious amounts of time to learning and practicing Flexibility Charms, brewing Agility potions, transfiguring their shoes into different fantastical items (each one more glitzy than the next, but very few of them likely to help with the actual dancing.)

Sirius' palms had been continuously clammy ever since he had asked Remus to attend with him. He knew well that all night they would be surrounded by people, none of whom would suspect anything about his attending with his second-best friend, but who would leave him little opportunity to talk to Remus alone. Maybe that was what he was counting on, considering how much he was dreading what he had to talk about. Yet he knew tonight had to be the night that he came clean about it all, stopped denying who he was and how felt, stopped acting like a child and finally stepped up to this whole matter like any mature person. As James had recently learned, they were nearly adults now, so why act like kids anymore?

As he hurriedly ran a comb through his hair and adjusted the hem of his dress robes, Sirius' stomach clenched and twisted inside his body and all he could think was, _I better get laid for this_.

—————————

The two boys in their brightly colored robes descended the swiveling staircases toward the Great Hall. Remus' expression looked pallid and glazed and though he insisted he was fine, he faltered at the knees several times on the way down. As he began to topple over, Sirius gripped his friend below the shoulders and hoisted him back to his feet.

"I'm fine," he muttered again, loosening his tie slightly. "Just a little—"

"A little weak, yeah, you've said that," Sirius said guiltily. "Look, if you're not up to it…"

"I said I'd come, so I'm coming."

"Yeah, but tomorrow the moon'll be—"

"Padfoot, I'm supposed to be the one who worries all the time, alright?" Remus persisted with a feeble smile. "Stop trying to steal my job."

Outside the Great Hall, two third years were handing out brightly colored, highly ornamented masks. As Sirius and Remus reached the front of the line, the one on the left asked Sirius mechanically, "Is this your date?" and indicated to Remus.

"Erm, we're just friends—"

"I mean are you here together?"

"Oh, yes, we're together." Sirius grinned embarrassedly at Remus. _That was smooth, Black_, he thought bitterly. But Remus had not even heard the exchange, for he was holding his head with his temples between his palms, his eyes squeezed shut and his nose crinkled.

"What house?" asked the third year.

"Gryffindor. Moony, you alright?"

"Eh?" he replied and blinked pronouncedly. "Oh, yeah, just… just getting rid of the ringing."

The third year thrust two masks, one gold and one crimson, into Sirius' hand and directed them into the Great Hall. Putting on the masks, they halted as soon as they stepped through the double doors and marveled at the Hall as they had never seen it before.

All the standard Halloween decorations were present, but in addition curtains and veils of every rich color draped over each window and glittered in the candlelight. The ceiling had been bewitched to reflect a fantastic sky of purple hue with huge, diamond-like stars twinkling and rearranging to form pictures of intricate jack-o-lanterns, dancing couples in long billowing robes, dragons and monsters opening wide their gleaming mouths to let out inaudible roars that echoed silently throughout the buzz of the Hall. Along each wall, four tiers seated students directly above one another, each tier consisting of a long row of splendidly colored armchairs situated behind an equally long table abound with a lavish array of food. The floor below was overrun with students, each dressed in a different hue, dancing peacefully to the music issuing from the band that played atop a raised platform in the center of the room.

"Blimey," Remus uttered. "Never seen anything like this before."

From the fourth tier on the east wall, they caught sight of James leaping up and down shouting, "Oi! Here, doggies! C'mere, boy!" beside a mortified but laughing Lily and a sniggering Peter. Sirius let out a laugh and led the way toward James's table.

As soon as they reached the fourth tier, Dumbledore strolled up to the center platform and graciously motioned to the band to stop playing. They all nodded, set down their instruments, and wandered off to find themselves some pumpkin juice.

"Good evening," Dumbledore announced loudly with a smile, "and happy Halloween! Now, I promise not to take up too much time because I know you're all excited to begin the competition, but I think it is worth taking a moment to mention the history of this event.

"Soon after the school's inception, Helga Hufflepuff was very disappointed that students had few opportunities to appreciate the arts. She argued that Hogwarts was excellent in academics and in sports, but they did not seem to grant any importance to music, dance, painting, sculpture, and so on. Helga was not one to let her opinions go unheard, so she and the other founders eventually concocted the Halloween Ball to expose students to Helga's very favorite form of art: dance. Perhaps because of this, many Hufflepuffs have an innate gift for dancing, because they seem to win the competition more often than any other house. Which of course is not to say that the rest of you shouldn't try your best, just that tradition may put you at a disadvantage.

"But now we shall move on to the competition. One of our judges, all previous competition winners, I might add, will now come up to the stage and read the rules. Idris?"

A tiny, wizened old witch whose nose nearly touched her chin stepped up, opened a scroll, and began to read:

"The dance competition will take place in two parts. The first part will include every entrant. A panel of five impartial judges will case the floor, selecting seven couples whose dancing is most aesthetically, technically, and magically impressive. There will be a short intermission during which these finalists will be questioned by the judges about any spells, potions, or other techniques they used in their performance. Whoever of these finalists is deemed most innovative with their use of magic, making sure to utilize all disciplines that would be covered on his or her exams, will be declared the winner and will be awarded with a trophy and exemption from final examinations. However, it should be noted that any use of magic on other couples in the competition will result in immediate disqualification."

The old witch paused to push her glasses up her hook nose and returned to reading from the scroll, "At my word, students wishing to participate will file down to the dance floor in an orderly fashion, and the competition will summarily commence."

Well over half the students sat poised to rush the floor. Peter and his date Elissa were in identical position as if they had rehearsed. Their feet were planted firmly on the floor of the tier, bottoms halfway off their chairs, wands clasped firmly in their arms. They fixed their eyes on the old witch holding the scroll.

"And… begin."

Peter, Elissa, and scores of other students immediately flooded the dance floor like a pack of hungry dogs all clawing and bounding over one another. The music began to pulse and from the mass of students there instantaneously arose jets of sparks, pops and bangs and booms, misty swirls of color, and every other showy display of extraneous magic that their teenage minds could muster.

After the initial tidal wave had subsided, James rose from his chair and, slightly stooped in a bow, held out his hand to Lily. She blushed faintly as she placed her hand in his and the two strolled down to the dance floor. James turned his head over his shoulder and shot a wink back at Sirius.

"He finally learned," said Sirius offhand, plucking a pumpkin tart from its platter. He glanced at Remus only to find him staring blankly up the table at something. Sirius leaned in and followed Remus' eyes with his own.

Wearing royal blue dress robes and a bronzy mask, a tall black boy peered down the table at the two of them. He smiled widely in their direction and held up his right hand in a small, casual greeting. His date, in a conversely blue mask with bronze robes, leaned in to see whom the boy was greeting; but Sirius had hastily turned away, blocking himself and Remus from her gaze.

"I didn't know you were friends with Burke," Remus stated as if in a daze.

Sirius kept his eyes down. "Err, not really, no, I just… err, I helped him out one time in… err… Herbology."

Remus, whose skull felt as though it might collapse in upon itself at any time, was not feeling well enough to realize how very flawed this excuse was, considering that Sirius had been in grave danger of failing Herbology before Remus struck him with some intensive tutoring last year. Instead, his attention was suddenly transfixed by what was happening down on the dance floor. "Look," he breathed in astonishment, gesturing toward Peter and his date.

Elissa was small but svelte with a certain natural grace, so her propensity for dance surprised no one. Meek little Peter however, whom few people would have even known if not for his being friends with James and Sirius, surprised everyone; apparently he possessed an enormous talent for it as well.

"Unbelievable!" Sirius exclaimed. Laughing incredulously, he suddenly remembered half the reason for bringing Remus here in the first place. _I reckon I should tell him_, he admitted to himself. _I've put it off long enough. If I don't tell him now, I may _never_ have the bollocks to do it. But there are so many people here. Wouldn't it be better to wait? Then again,_ he began to rationalize,_ what're you afraid of? You're Sirius Black! Everyone at Hogwarts wants you. He ought to feel honored when I tell him. _Yet no matter how hard he insisted this to himself, he was still terrified. _If I tell him. _Nervously twisting a lock of his long hair around his finger, he ventured a glance at Remus.

His body sat doubled over with his head held nearly between his knees.

"Remus?"

He lifted his head slowly. His colorless skin clung sickly to his bones; his eyes glinted with a glassy shallowness. Expressionlessly he formed the words, "I'm going to be sick."

"Shit," Sirius cried. "C'mon, Moony. I never should've made you come here." After heaving his friend up onto his feet, he grappled desperately at his robes to keep him standing. "Never should've… should've known… know what happens every time… my fault… so sorry… all my fault…" came the incessant mumbling in Remus' ear as he was led down through the thumping throngs back to the Gryffindor common room. No one even saw the two bustling out of the Great Hall, for all eyes still lay transfixed on that mousy little friend of James Potter whom no one knew could dance or do anything exceptional at all.

**..End of Chapter 5..**


	6. Ch 6: The Confession

**AN:** I apologize for the extreme delay of this last chapter. A combination of being busy, lazy, and having writers block kept me from finishing with any due speed. But now it's up, so enjoy the final chapter of the story!

**..Chapter 6: The Confession..**

When the two boys burst into the empty Gryffindor dorm, Sirius was practically dragging Remus whose legs limply trod along well behind the rest of his body. Sirius' bed, littered with crumpled laundry, sat closest to the door, so Remus collapsed upon it right away. A guttural groan clawed its way out of his chest.

"Shit, Moony," Sirius muttered repentantly, his cheeks flushing with the guilt rising within him. "Shit." He continued swearing in the back of his throat as he removed Remus' shoes and conjured a jet of clean water into the empty glass on the bedside table. "Tell me what to do, Moony. What do you need?"

Remus weakly grappled at the water glass, and at length successfully brought it to his lips. "I'll be fine—"

"Like hell you will!" Sirius bellowed indignantly. "You can barely walk, you can barely think, and nobody can vomit on the Fat Lady and still convince me he's fine!"

"If you'd let me finish," hoarsely retorted Remus, "I was going to say I'll be fine if I just lie here a while. I overexerted myself is all. You know."

Sirius stood silently gazing at the other boy. "Fine," he said abruptly as if his pride had been somehow hurt by this denial of his care. He tossed his tie onto the bed to the left, James's, and began unfastening his dress robes. They pinched the skin around his neck and squeezed his slim belly in farther than it was meant to go; he welcomed their removal. Carelessly he balled them up in his arms and cast them onto James's bed as well, upon which he next cast himself, now clad comfortably in his roomy undershirt and trousers.

"You want out of those robes?" he offered, having weighed the potential uneasiness of the statement against how immensely uncomfortable Remus must be in those pinching, squeezing dress robes.

"No. They're warm."

"You cold?"

"Freezing." And indeed, Remus' teeth were chattering.

"Do you think a butterbeer would help? I think James has a few stowed in his trunk I could warm up for you…" Sirius dove hastily to the end of James's bed and cracked open the trunk. "Here, he has textbooks, textbooks, socks, textbooks— ew, a half-eaten Cauldron Cake, probably from the train ride here— the flying carpet I gave him for Christmas (so glad he's getting good use out of it), socks, more socks, a Quaffle, more bloody socks! I swear that freak owns a million pairs of socks…"

As Sirius shuffled in James's trunk, Remus heard something crinkling beneath his head. He reached beneath his pillow and extracted a piece of parchment with an unfinished letter scrawled on it in what was unmistakably Sirius' handwriting. The letter was addressed to someone named "Orion." Genuinely meaning no harm and erroneously thinking that it was addressed to Sirius' estranged father, Remus blearily skimmed the letter and, among the scratches and squiggles marking out words, phrases, and whole paragraphs, he made out:

_"Dear Orion,_

_You knew this would happen sooner or later when we agreed to this in the first place. Don't feel like you did anything, because we both knew it would end before long. It was only a matter of who ended it first. I still promise not to tell anyone about you if you don't tell anyone about me. It was nice while it lasted but I just can't do this anymore."_

Meanwhile, Sirius had seen Remus' eyes gliding over the familiar letter. He was frozen where he sat on his knees, every muscle in his body tense, as the magnitude of his friend's discovery registered in his mind. _But what use is there in stopping him now?_ he asked himself in defeat. _I was going to tell him anyway_.

Remus' face flushed. This was most certainly not directed to Mr. Black. Was this what Remus was suspecting? His cheeks grew hotter and hotter and he shot a nervous glance at Sirius, who stared back with wide-eyed terror.

_He knows_, thought Sirius. _He knows and now he hates me._

They sat silently for eons, neither knowing what to say. Several times Remus attempted an apology, but created nothing but a series of "err"s and "uhm"s; just as many times Sirius attempted an explanation, and created exactly the same.

"Remus," came the quiet disruption to that miserable silence at last. Sirius' nerves burned his eyes; his fear darkened his vision. He seemed to be viewing the scene distantly through a remote pair of eyes.

And abruptly, the confession poured forth in a rapid, mortified fervor: "Remus, I'm gay. I'm a poof, a queer, a bender, a nancy-boy, whatever. And that letter… I've been… been shagging him—Orion Burke—but I've… had enough of it. I'm through with it. I don't want to shag him anymore, Remus, because I want— because… I love you."

Too frightened that he would be met with a look of disgust, he kept his eyes anywhere other than Remus' face.

"Oh." Remus could not think what to say. He knew he ought to say more. "Oh" was hardly a satisfactory response to such a candid confession.

"It's okay if you hate me," Sirius whispered self-pitiably.

"Hate you? I could never hate you." The absoluteness of the statement was comforting. "I just never thought of it that way."

"Of what?"

"Of you." He smiled weakly. "I wouldn't think I'd be your, er, your type."

Sirius sat solemnly gazing downward. "So you're not angry?"

"Angry? What, that you, er, fancy me? Of course not. Flattered."

A tremendous portion of the tension in the room ebbed away. The atmosphere of the utmost sincerity reassured Sirius that he would not lose his friend over this, and that his secret would remain safely between them.

"But you don't… feel the same." It was an assertion rather than a question.

"Well…"

Sirius' insides gave a jolt. "'Well?' 'Well' as in _not_ 'no, absolutely not, oh my god that's disgusting, get away from me before I catch the gay?'"

"'Well' as in 'I never thought in a million years that you'd have "the gay" in the first place,' but…"

"'But?' 'But' as in 'Oh Padfoot, I've been pining away for you ever since I was a lad and now I can finally tell you how I feel?'"

Remus chuckled sheepishly. "Er… something like that."

"What the hell! You can't be serious!" Instantaneously hundreds of different emotions had burst with resounding triumph inside Sirius' head. Was he really hearing what he had heard? Was Remus not only not repulsed by the confession but actually reciprocating it?

Although much of the color he had lost from feeling ill had returned to Remus' cheeks, it had fled once again from anxiety. "Well, not exactly. More like 'but' as in 'I had been noticing lately how you're…'"

"Gorgeous? Irresistible? A living Adonis?"

"Or an arrogant twat."

"No, really, what were you going to say?"

"Well… How you're…" he hesitated and then, as if reluctant, admitted, "…perfect. Except for being an arrogant twat of course."

This was unreal. "So, wait, you actually fancy me too? Really?"

Remus seemed to consider this for a moment. "Yes. Really. But…"

"Shit, not another 'but.'"

"What's all this about Orion Burke?"

And suddenly the brief euphoria of a newly requited love disintegrated into the unpleasant foreboding of the explanation to come. Nevertheless, the absolute openness of the preceding conversation led Sirius to an absolutely open confession. He had been concealing it for far too long. "Look, I don't even remember how it happened. We got to talking one day, I guess—that time I got detention with McGonagall for Transfiguring Snape's quill into a doxy, Burke was there getting help with a Transfiguration essay—and anyway we were talking and he sort of implied that he was, er, gay but he never really said it, and he asked me to meet him that night and so I did and I expected we were just going to talk and shit but he—he started kissing me, and what else was I supposed to do? So we shagged and I thought it would just be that one time, but he sent me a letter next day asking if I'd like to, er, make it a regular thing and I dunno. It just seemed like a great idea. I don't love him at all, never have; I just… he was the only guy at Hogwarts I knew of and I… you know."

Silence permeated the air between the two boys. Remus wondered if his mind was still clouded and ill, because he sensed the unexpected jealousy creeping through his veins and mercilessly squeezing his heart.

"I don't know why I just told you all that," Sirius admitted quietly. "You probably didn't want to know."

"It's alright. It's none of my business. I don't care." This claim came a little too quickly and a little too nonchalantly to be believed. Again guilt overcame Sirius, for he could visibly see the jealousy raging behind Remus' amber eyes.

Sirius swung his legs over the side of James's bed and buried his face in his hands. "It's your fault you know," he muttered.

"My fault?"

"Yeah. I mean I never— Before you I never thought of myself… like that."

Remus laughed nervously. "Before you met me, you were eleven."

He looked up. "Do you think I'm… I dunno… a bit of a slag?"

Remus' eyes widened. "Why would I? You were only, er, with the one bloke."

"But I don't care about him. I don't just not care about him, I don't give a shit about him. He's just a quick shag. He's nice and all that, but I just don't care. If I weren't fucking him, we could be friends."

"You can't be friends with someone you're shagging?"

Sirius did not respond. He pondered this question and its possible implications. "I dunno."

"Do you think…" Remus' voice cracked, "maybe we ought to try?"

—————————

James and Peter staggered up the staircase and into the Gryffindor boys' dormitory with their ties askew, their shoes untied, and their shirts on inside out. All the windows were thrown open, and through each one flooded the crisp autumn breeze and the sweet scent of morning dew. The muted light of daybreak dappled the three empty beds alongside the one with its curtains drawn. James's hand was clasped around a drained bottle of firewhiskey. Each boy collapsed onto his own bed.

"I can't believe Moony and Padfoot missed that party last night," sighed Peter with a mixture of exhaustion and elation. "I wonder where they got off to."

"I can't believe you won the fucking dance party competition contest thing," James slurred drunkenly. "Fucking mad, that's what it is. Completely mad. Totally bleedin' mad. I mean, honestly, who would've thought a Gryffindor who wasn't me would've won? Especially a Gryffindor who was you. Honestly. Bleedin' mad."

"Would you shut it, Prongs?" came Sirius' raspy voice from the one occupied bed as a balled-up sock soared over the top of the curtains in the general direction of James's face. "I swear, when you're pissed you never shut your gob…"

"Oi, Paddy!" James called, still strewn languidly across his own bed. "You missed a hell of a party last night celebrating Peter's come-from-behind victory at the ball. If you hadn't've turned in so bloody early you could've gotten as pissed as me and Peter, but no, ickle Paddyfeets had to go to beddy-bye…"

"Prongs, you really oughtn't to get so drunk in public. You always make a right arse of yourself," muttered Remus as a second sock flew out from within the same bed curtains.

Had either James or Peter been the least bit sober that morning, they might have been curious as to why both of their friends' voices came from the same bed. This inquiry would have been fueled by the preponderance of discarded clothing littering the floor around this bed, or the vague recognition of the two pairs of bare feet peeking out from the bottom of the curtains. However, in the absence of any prying questions, the two boys were left peacefully in their bed, running their fingers tenderly through the other's soft, damp hair.

**...The End..**

**AN:** That's the end! I hope you all found the ending to be satisfactory. If you enjoyed this fic, you may like another one I wrote recently with the same pairing but with way more angst. It's a pretty short one-shot called "The Little House Just Outside Hogsmeade." Check it out. :)


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